


She Will Meet Them On the Stair

by sincerelymendacious



Category: Psychonauts (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, a weird 70's movie vibe, also wanted to do, as Elka, but whenever i read those, by melancholy modernist poets, by sylvia plath, don't know why, explore's elka's pre-cog, i always think of elka, idk why, inspired by the decline of oracles, melancholy modernist poems, some maloof/elka if you squint, spoiler: she's not happy, with Catherine Deneuve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 03:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16925532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincerelymendacious/pseuds/sincerelymendacious
Summary: The visions of this event began a month ago. By the time it actually happens she feels almost nothing.





	She Will Meet Them On the Stair

It's the sunlight, slanting down through her bedroom window that wakes her, just as she predicted it would. Elka opens her eyes and turns her head away, squinting at the sudden brightness. Exhaustion is still tugging at her eyelids, and the thought of lifting the blankets back up over her head and going back to sleep is a tempting one. She keeps the covers where they are, already knowing the pointlessness of that action. The clock on the nightstand reads 5:37 in bold, red numbers.

They will be here soon.

Elka sits up and runs a hand through her short, blond hair, combing through the knots. Her mouth is dry and there is a foul taste in the back of her throat. Swallowing, she takes a moment to observe her surroundings. The walls and carpet, both faded and pink, need a new coat of paint and a good vacuuming respectively. Shopping bags, full of clothes and accessories bought weeks ago, are piled up on top of the dresser. Old clothes litter the floor. The mess does not concern her; it will be taken care of by the time she returns in five days.

The clock now reads 5:39. Elka inhales through her nose and exhales through her mouth, and then gets out of bed, the strap of her nightgown falling down her shoulder as she moves. Leaving her bed unmade, she walks to the bathroom connected to her room, her bare feet silent on the carpet. The bathroom is colder than her bedroom, and Elka's skin prickles in response to the chill. She turns the shower knob and faucet sputters, makes a high pitched shriek, then shoots forth streams of cool water. Anticipation rises within her as the water hits the tile- it's been an embarrassingly long while since her last shower, and the feel of hot water pounding on her flesh is the first thing in a while that seems worth looking forward too.

Elka slips her nightgown over her head, catching sight of her reflection in the bathroom mirror. As she waits for the water to heat up, she takes herself into account. As usual, she's too tall and too thin. Her mother used to say that she that she had a willowy figure. Would that make her stick-like arms the branches?

Her ribs are visible through her skin. Elka runs her finger along the left side of her body in a detached, almost clinical manner. The sight of these bones jutting out from her flesh does not worry her. She has not seen her own death yet, but her visions of herself have revealed that these ribs are just visiting; they are not here to stay. She cannot say the same for her wan cheeks or the dark shadows under her eyes. This doesn't bother her either, as it's nothing that concealer and blush cannot mask. As for the flaws that make-up cannot fix…well. The people coming for her are after her sight, not her body, so it doesn't really matter what that looks like, now does it?

She takes her time in the shower, taking special care to wash the grease out of her hair. She's been neglecting herself more than usual the past month- but only because she knew that this day would come, that the men she would be meeting soon would spur her to get out of bed and make herself presentable. No way in hell is she going to let anybody see her looking anything less than immaculate.

She finishes up just as the hot water runs out. Patting herself dry and blow-drying her hair takes her approximately five minutes and twenty seconds. Her sight has become so accurate that she can predict an event's duration down to the second. She's surpassed her own father in that regard, and it's likely the reason why she is the one these men, now turning onto the road that will lead to her apartment building, are after her and not her father.

When she emerges from her bathroom, wrapped in a fluffy towel, the clock reads 5:57. It won't be long now. Elka walks over to her closet and grabs the first dress she sees without putting much thought into it. She has no reason to think about it- she already knows that she will be wearing a sleeveless baby pink dress with a flared skirt and white lace bordering the hem. She gets dressed with no urgency, as though she were getting ready to meet her mother for an early breakfast rather than two strangers tasked with kidnapping her. Once that's done, it's time for her hair and make-up. Unlike the rest of her room, the vanity and everything on it are relatively clean, if only because she doesn't need a breakout of acne on top of her already too-pale skin.

On good days, putting on her make-up is a fun way to exercise her creativity. Not today. She already knows that she'll go for a shimmery gold eye and pink blush/lips combo, and if she didn't, she doesn't have the energy to create an elaborate look anyway. The only thing that matters is that her cheeks look bright and that her skin looks healthy. Same goes for her hair, a simple run-through with her comb and a nice, white barrette to push her bangs to the side is enough.

One last look at her clock (6:21- they are parallel parking across the street now) before she exits her room and enters the rest of her apartment. The sparse lighting streaming in through the windows illuminates a dismal and dry living space. There's technically less mess here, some dishes in the sink, dust on the furniture, but only because this is not a place where she's been spending a whole lot of time lately. Elka runs her finger along the kitchen counter as she walks by, leaving a single streak of clean through the thin layer of dirt. She'll be glad to get away from this bleak apartment, she thinks as she inspects the grey residue left on her finger.

The next time she sees this place it will be much cleaner. Maloof will see to it, while he's anxiously waiting for her rescue. It will be a difficult time for him, she knows. And maybe she should have told him the last time she saw him that this is no big deal, that she's seen the end of this and that she will return safe and sound, but that's not how her vision went, so she couldn't. Could she have twisted fate just enough to allow Maloof some peace of mind during her absence? Perhaps, but part of her likes how much he worries, how much he wants to take care of her, and how he clings to her despite all the times her sight has forced her to trample on his heart. A stark contrast to the man she usually leaves him for. Nils will not hear about this kidnapping until long after it is over, and he will only respond with a shrug and a 'you good now?'

Everything she will need is packed up in a small suitcase sitting by the entrance. Elka collects it as she opens her front door (in time with the two men, just now opening the door to her apartment building). To any of her neighbors, she would look like a young woman setting off on a trip, maybe to her parent's house or to her lover's, and somebody walking into her own abduction. The hallway is long and well-kept, the walls a neutral beige that goes well with the clean blue carpeting. Elka walks slowly down the hall. The staircase is around the corner at the end of the hall, and if she times herself correctly (she will), then she'll arrive at the top of the stairs just as the two men are half-way up.

That is exactly how events unfold. The men pause when she comes into view, and watch as she glides forward and stops at the top of stairs. Elka looks down at them, resting one hand delicately on the rail, her expression cool. There are two of them; one an older man with a harsh, lined face and grizzly stubble, the other a younger, baby-faced fellow whose jaw has dropped at the sight of her. He reminds her of Maloof, and it makes Elka want to smile (she doesn't).

The older gentleman is nowhere near as awestruck as his partner, though his gaze does linger over her face appreciatively. "Ms. Doom," he greets, tipping his hat at her politely. He speaks like they know each other, and in a way, that is somewhat true. He's probably done plenty of research on her, and she's seen this moment, and the moments that follow a number of times in the days leading up to this one. His eyes flicker over to her suitcase and he shifts, placing his hand within easy reach of the gun hidden under his jacket. They are both armed, even the novice, but this knowledge does not frighten Elka, because she knows that neither of them will draw their weapons. "Going somewhere?" he asks, gesturing at her suitcase.

His tone is friendly, but Elka is in no mood for games. "You know that I am," she says, before stepping down towards them, stopping on the stair above them. She thrusts her suitcase at the novice chest and he nearly drops it in surprise before taking it. "I'm not going to put up a fight or scream," she continues as she pushes past them down the stairs, "so let's just go. Your boss is on a tight schedule."

She can't see the veteran's face, but she knows that he's surprised by her forwardness. He recovers quickly. "We're parked across the street," he says when he catches up to her at the bottom of the stairs. "Black Mercedes."

"I know that," she replies.

It's a nice car, Elka can admit that. It's not flashy or expensive enough to stand out, but it's well-made in a way that makes it clear that its driver has some status. The novice rushes forward, eager to open the door for her. The action would be chivalrous, Elka thinks as she gets into the car without sparing the novice a second glance, if he wasn't kidnapping her. She's not too sore towards him. He will be her main source of entertainment in the days to come (though her amusement will be dampened by the fact that she's already seen all the ways she'll make this boy sweat- there won't be any real effort on her part).

The veteran gets in the driver's seat while the novice is putting her suitcase in the trunk. He adjusts the rear view mirror and makes eye contact with her reflection. "I've been in this business a long time," he begins, sounding oddly casual for a man who has just admitted to being a career criminal. "And I've never seen anybody as completely unafraid as you are."

The trunk slams shut. Elka shrugs and looks out the window. "I have nothing to be afraid of," she says, watching the novice as he passes by.

The veteran frowns, quickly catching on to the meaning of her words. "You've seen how this ends, haven't you?" he asks, his hand tightening on the steering wheel.

The novice enters the car and sneaks a look back at her, his face turning red. He's completely unaware of how tense his partner has become, and it makes Elka smile. "Wouldn't you like to know?"


End file.
